John Connor's Horrible No Good Very Bad Day
by Douglas Neman
Summary: John just wants some alone time. He doesn't get it. Contains a sexually explicit scene.


John Connor sighed, watching two drill team girls walk by in spandex, his eyes taking in every curve of their bodies without (he hoped) being obvious about it. They sounded nice as they talked. Normal. Gorgeous. One had a ribbon in her hair.

"John," Cameron said loudly, insistently.

"What?" he asked, irritated.

Cameron walked closer. "I had to say your name three times. Is there a problem with your hearing?" She wasn't being sarcastic.

John glanced again at the two girls he knew he could never have. "No," he said quietly. "No problem."

Cameron walked to the car, expecting him to follow. Which, of course, he did. Like always.

* * *

Cameron walked once around the house, as she always did when they came home. John grabbed a small box of juice from the fridge. His mother sat at the kitchen table looking through a 3-ring binder.

"How was school?"

He grunted.

"Derek and I have a lead on the Turk," she said. "I don't know how long we'll be gone. Dinner's on you."

He grunted again and walked towards his bedroom. Cameron came in from the back yard, walking fast, and entered the living room. She stopped, bent over at the waist with her legs perfectly straight, looking intently at the baseboard.

"What are you doing?" John asked, knowing he really shouldn't.

"We have at least one mouse," Cameron said without turning around. "I'm listening for it so I can kill it."

 _Of course_ , he thought. _Silly me_.

Then he noticed how Cameron's tight slacks showed off her really cute butt. He knew she was only a machine, but his responding hormones didn't care. She was a _nice_ -looking machine. He glanced around, verified that Derek and his mother were out of sight, opened up his cell phone and took a photo of Cameron, who was still bent over listening intently. She still didn't move, so he zoomed in and took another one. Perfect.

He slouched into his bedroom and nudged the door shut, putting it between himself and the universe. He flopped onto the bed, stared at the ceiling, and thought about spandex and what glories it hid.

It seemed forever, but after only 15 minutes the car left the garage and he knew he was the only human in the house. He pulled a magazine of nude women from beneath the mattress and thumbed through it for a few minutes, rubbing himself and gazing at the gorgeous girls.

Then he opened up his laptop, placed it on the desk beside the bed, and uploaded the photos of Cameron to it. He opened the zoomed photo of her butt, as well as a few other of his favorite photos of nude women which he had downloaded from the web.

Not wanting to be disturbed, he turned off his phone. It wouldn't be for long.

He tore out of his clothes, lay down, and caressed himself, sometimes looking at the magazine, sometimes looking at the laptop's screen, sometimes thinking of drill team girls in spandex. He was so horny it hurt. He felt like something was screaming inside.

He only needed a few minutes. Jerking himself faster and faster, looking at the photos, he finally closed his eyes, arched his back, and exploded. It was an absolute monster of an orgasm – good, long and powerful. Rarely had he needed one so _badly_. He could hear the semen hitting the wall above his head, the pillow beside his ears; he could feel it covering his chest. He kept it going as long as he could.

He finally lay still, totally relaxed, basking in the change his body had just experienced, from desperate, pounding need to complete serenity. Seconds stretched to minutes, and he began to snore softly.

"John."

He jerked his head at the noise, waking instantly, disoriented. Cameron was standing over him, holding a phone towards him.

"Your mother needs to speak with you."

John blinked at her, trying to take it all in. He glanced down and realized that he was still lying naked, covered in semen. "Um…" was all he could say. His mother's voice came from the phone.

"Um, not now," he finally said.

"She says it's urgent," Cameron said.

"Um…" John looked around himself, wondering what he was supposed to do in this situation. He could hear his mother asking for him. In desperation to do _something_ , he yanked the phone out of Cameron's hand. "What?" he asked irritably.

"I called you twice. Why is your phone off?" his mother asked.

"Um…I…um…turned it off while I was in class. School rule. Guess I forgot to turn it back on."

"Don't do that again. We've got a name. I think it's the man Cameron saw last week in the parking garage when we were leaving TechWorld. I need you to match the name with a face and get her to ID it." She told him the man's name.

"Um…okay," John said, and his mother could tell he was distracted.

"John, I need you on this now!" she snapped. "We only have a 15 minute window to nail this guy, but I need verification before we move!"

"Okay! Okay!" he griped. "I'll call you back!" He flipped the phone shut and handed it to Cameron, who had looked at his face the entire time without expression. She remained standing where she was. John didn't know what to say, didn't know where to look.

"Um…Cameron, could you excuse me for a moment?" he finally asked.

"We need to do this now, John. The man I saw at TechWorld was following us, but was not employed by them. He is a potential threat. If we ID him now, we can neutralize him. Otherwise, we may be on the defensive for many months."

John swallowed hard, wishing this was a nightmare. "Yes, Cameron, I know, but I need a few moments, okay?"

"Why?"

"I need to clean myself up!" he said irritably.

She looked down at the rest of his body and at the magazine lying beside him, then pulled several tissues out of a box beside the bed and began cleaning semen off of him.

"Don't do that!" he shouted. "Let me do it! Leave!"

"If we both do it, it will be done faster," she said, continuing to mop up his semen and throwing the tissues into the trash can. "We must hurry. You seem unable to understand the urgency of the situation despite the fact that your mother and I have both explained it to you several times."

John sighed. It was useless to argue with her. Together they wiped up the mess, and John swung his feet off the bed, pulling the covers over his waist. She sat beside him and they both faced the laptop, whose screen showed photos of two naked women and a close-up of Cameron's butt.

John hurriedly minimized the photos, but he knew Cameron had seen them. She stared at the screen impassively.

John started a program he had written. It crawled several hundred search engines, government databases and private directories in a variety of ways and compiled the data. It was very thorough and often took several minutes. Today it was running more slowly than usual. Or perhaps it just felt that way to John, who wanted this whole situation over with _now_. He and Cameron stared silently at the blue progress bar on the screen, one of them feeling massively awkward.

"You were masturbating," she said.

John nodded his head like a pigeon stuck in a trap and finally couldn't think of anything to say other than, "Yeah."

"You were using pictures of naked women as visual stimuli."

"Um…" More nodding. "Yeah."

"You were also using a picture of me as a visual stimulus, but I was not naked."

This time, John just nodded. He stared hard at the laptop. The progress bar was finally moving along and had found a few results. It couldn't move fast enough, as far as he was concerned.

"Why?" she asked.

It took a few seconds for the question to register. "Why what?"

"Why were you using a picture of me with clothing on as a visual stimulus?"

"Well," he squeaked, then cleared his throat. Best just to get it over with. "I find you very attractive. Sometimes."

"That's not what I meant. First of all, you had many pictures of naked women as visual stimuli, so an additional picture of a female who is not naked shouldn't have been necessary. Second, if you had wanted to use my body as a visual stimulus, you could have ordered me to stand naked in front of you, or taken photos of my naked body and used them as stimuli."

John just blinked at her. He didn't know how to answer _any_ of that.

The program pinged. The search was finished.

John had never snatched up his phone and dialed his mother's number faster than he did now. Photographs of the man whose name they had searched popped up all over the screen.

Cameron took the phone from John before he could say a word. She spoke the date, then said, "Identification confirmed. That is the man who was following us three days ago."

She hung up and set the phone down, then turned back to John, still waiting for an answer.

"Um, look," John said awkwardly. "It doesn't work that way. I wouldn't be comfortable doing this if someone just stood there and watched."

"Would you like pictures of me naked, then?"

He took a deep breath, his heart racing. "Sort of. You're pretty, but you're also a machine. It…it…just kind of feels creepy to lust after a machine, you know?"

"That didn't stop you a few minutes ago."

John closed his eyes and felt his face get warm. "No, it didn't. I can't explain it. I just couldn't get excited over pictures of you if you just stood there and let me take them."

"So it's better to get excited over pictures of a woman if you've taken them without her knowledge?"

"No!" he shouted, then sighed. "It's just very, very difficult to explain."

"Apparently."

He rubbed his hand over his face. "So just please…don't tell my mother you found me like this. Just don't mention this to her at all."

"I won't."

John thought for a moment. "Or to Derek, either."

"I won't mention it to Derek."

John thought for a moment longer. "In fact, don't men-"

"I won't tell anyone, John," Cameron interrupted him. "Promise."

He nodded.

Cameron stood up and left, but stopped in the doorway and looked back.

"Go back to sleep," she said. "Since you are a male, your post-orgasmic hormonal changes have almost certainly induced a state of drowsiness. I will wake you if we have another emergency."

She turned off the light, stepped out of the room, and closed the door.

John let out an enormous sigh and lay back on his bed. He stared at the ceiling and wondered if this day could get any weirder.

Five minutes later, he was snoring again.


End file.
